**Hobson** I was still running. I did not have the slightest idea when it would be safe to stop, so I kept on. I frequently looked over my shoulder, which if I recall correctly, is sort of a cardinal sin of running away. You never look back; they’ll catch you that way. My emptiness was intact, and over my shoulder. Even three empty shells can keep a man down, or at least me. But, I couldn’t leave it behind. It had to make the journey with me, for better or worse. My gut feeling was it was going to get worse long before it got better, but I figured I still had the threat of this weapon. The only problem is my face, my body; they do not reflect the power and intimidation this weapon once displayed. They reflect the emptiness of the shells, and I never had a good poker face. I started to slow my pace; I thought I had heard something in front of me, and I was certain it was larger than an animal. Then, out of the light came a dark figure, gun in hand. They had found me, I thought. This journey, unsatisfying as it was, was over. But, the man didn’t shoot. Until he got to my face, he didn’t say a word. “Stop where you are. What’s that over your shoulder?” “Just an empty shell,” I mumbled back. “I’m afraid I don’t follow…” “Then how’d you find me?” “Scavenging. The name’s Johann.” “Hobson. Well, I’ll be going now…” “Yes, you will; on a walk with me.” We proceeded to walk for a few blocks, and yet, Johann hardly said a word. We approached a building that looked fairly old-fashioned and from the outside, uninhabited. We were alone; we had been alone the entire time, and Johann had done nothing to me. I did not know what he was planning to do, or if he was planning anything. “Hobson, right? Hey, would you happen to know anything about this?” He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper of a terrible drawing of a man. I almost laughed, but I don’t think I had the energy to. I took a deep breath, trying to make out what it was he wanted. “I can’t say I do know anything about this.” “And why is that?” “Because I don’t.” “Are you aware that I could have killed you this entire time?” “Indeed. On the other hand, are you aware that killing me does nothing for you; maybe even less for me.” “I don’t quite get what you mean.” “You don’t have to.” Johann rambled on for a while about this item; when he finally got to the point, I learned that it was a statue. Still, I didn’t care. The only statue I remember owning was the one that broke a few days ago in that odd faux-Frenchman’s bait shop. I started listening to him, again, but only near the end. Maybe because I figured he was almost done talking. “I can’t explain it, but I just need to have it. It means something to me.” I realized he was more like me than I thought. “I understand. This is all I have,” as I pointed to my identity.” “What is it?” “Empty.” Just then, he pulled out another weapon; it was a blade of some sort. I was taken by surprise, and once again, fear set in. Once again, I assumed this was the end. I was wrong, again.” “Do you know anything about this blade, Hobson?” “Looks more like a spear to me.” “Whichever; do you know anything about it?” “What’s there to know?” “Well, Hobson, answer this: why would the people over there want it?” Johann pointed over to a couple of men who were starting to emerge from the confines of the old building. I recognized them instantly; “The Bandits of the Hood…” I mumbled under my breath. “You’ve met them?” “Once.” “Never mind them; why do they want this?” “They don’t just want that, Johann. They want you, too; they want you to join them.” “How would you know that?” “Because you can scavenge, because you are valuable; like I could, like I was.” “Why didn’t you join them?” “They wanted me to give up this weapon; I couldn’t. I need this, even in all its emptiness. I’m sure they asked you to part with something. And I’m sure they recruited you because you found that spear…” “Just my handgun; it doesn’t mean that much to me. And how might you know that?” “I found a bomb where none of them could. Look, they won’t use your handgun against you; I can assure you of that.” “Why is that?” “They do not like technology; they have good weaponry, good men; I’ve seen them. Does the handgun hold any significant personal value to you?” “No, not at all; I thought I already told you that. There’s only one item in particular that holds value to me “Well, I don’t see the problem, then.” “That’s because there is no problem to see…” spoke a third voice. “Alex.” “Hobson; it is nice to see you again.” “I suppose it is.” I took a seat, while Alex and Johann had a conversation similar to the one I had with Alex a few days ago. There was a slight difference, though, that I could detect. He wasn’t as interested in Johann as he was in me. At least, that’s what I was sensing. They talked for several minutes while I just sat and contemplated the opportunity of joining up with Alex and the rest of them; or, if he would even offer me that opportunity again. I rose to my feet, and Johann started to become less responsive. I could sense a bit of anger in him; I didn’t know why, though. “Johann, just hand over the gun, and join us,” Alex said. “Fair enough.” Johann handed the gun to Alex, who immediately threw it to the side. I was right in assuming they wouldn’t use it against him. They were decent people. In a split-second, everything shifted; too quickly, I think. As Alex tossed the gun, Johann made a move at him with his spear, or blade, as he called it. Alex side-stepped the attack, and I picked up the pistol, and without even realizing it in that moment, shot Johann in the side of the head. He was motionless; as was I. The other members approached quickly, but Alex waived them off. “I suppose I owe you something, Hobson.” “I suppose you do.” “Walk with me.”
I was still running. I did not have the slightest idea when it would be safe to stop, so I kept on. I frequently looked over my shoulder, which if I recall correctly, is sort of a cardinal sin of running away. You never look back; they’ll catch you that way. My emptiness was intact, and over my shoulder. Even three empty shells can keep a man down, or at least me. But, I couldn’t leave it behind. It had to make the journey with me, for better or worse. My gut feeling was it was going to get worse long before it got better, but I figured I still had the threat of this weapon. The only problem is my face, my body; they do not reflect the power and intimidation this weapon once displayed. They reflect the emptiness of the shells, and I never had a good poker face.
I started to slow my pace; I thought I had heard something in front of me, and I was certain it was larger than an animal. Then, out of the light came a dark figure, gun in hand. They had found me, I thought. This journey, unsatisfying as it was, was over. But, the man didn’t shoot. Until he got to my face, he didn’t say a word.
“Stop where you are. What’s that over your shoulder?”
“Just an empty shell,” I mumbled back.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow…”
“Then how’d you find me?”
“Scavenging. The name’s Johann.”
“Hobson. Well, I’ll be going now…”
“Yes, you will; on a walk with me.”
We proceeded to walk for a few blocks, and yet, Johann hardly said a word. We approached a building that looked fairly old-fashioned and from the outside, uninhabited. We were alone; we had been alone the entire time, and Johann had done nothing to me. I did not know what he was planning to do, or if he was planning anything.
“Hobson, right? Hey, would you happen to know anything about this?”
He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper of a terrible drawing of a man. I almost laughed, but I don’t think I had the energy to. I took a deep breath, trying to make out what it was he wanted.
“I can’t say I do know anything about this.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I don’t.”
“Are you aware that I could have killed you this entire time?”
“Indeed. On the other hand, are you aware that killing me does nothing for you; maybe even less for me.”
“I don’t quite get what you mean.”
“You don’t have to.”
Johann rambled on for a while about this item; when he finally got to the point, I learned that it was a statue. Still, I didn’t care. The only statue I remember owning was the one that broke a few days ago in that odd faux-Frenchman’s bait shop. I started listening to him, again, but only near the end. Maybe because I figured he was almost done talking.
“I can’t explain it, but I just need to have it. It means something to me.”
I realized he was more like me than I thought. “I understand. This is all I have,” as I pointed to my identity.”
“What is it?”
“Empty.”
Just then, he pulled out another weapon; it was a blade of some sort. I was taken by surprise, and once again, fear set in. Once again, I assumed this was the end. I was wrong, again.”
“Do you know anything about this blade, Hobson?”
“Looks more like a spear to me.”
“Whichever; do you know anything about it?”
“What’s there to know?”
“Well, Hobson, answer this: why would the people over there want it?”
Johann pointed over to a couple of men who were starting to emerge from the confines of the old building. I recognized them instantly; “The Bandits of the Hood…” I mumbled under my breath.
“You’ve met them?”
“Once.”
“Never mind them; why do they want this?”
“They don’t just want that, Johann. They want you, too; they want you to join them.”
“How would you know that?”
“Because you can scavenge, because you are valuable; like I could, like I was.”
“Why didn’t you join them?”
“They wanted me to give up this weapon; I couldn’t. I need this, even in all its emptiness. I’m sure they asked you to part with something. And I’m sure they recruited you because you found that spear…”
“Just my handgun; it doesn’t mean that much to me. And how might you know that?”
“I found a bomb where none of them could. Look, they won’t use your handgun against you; I can assure you of that.”
“Why is that?”
“They do not like technology; they have good weaponry, good men; I’ve seen them. Does the handgun hold any significant personal value to you?”
“No, not at all; I thought I already told you that. There’s only one item in particular that holds value to me
“Well, I don’t see the problem, then.”
“That’s because there is no problem to see…” spoke a third voice.
“Alex.”
“Hobson; it is nice to see you again.”
“I suppose it is.”
I took a seat, while Alex and Johann had a conversation similar to the one I had with Alex a few days ago. There was a slight difference, though, that I could detect. He wasn’t as interested in Johann as he was in me. At least, that’s what I was sensing. They talked for several minutes while I just sat and contemplated the opportunity of joining up with Alex and the rest of them; or, if he would even offer me that opportunity again.
I rose to my feet, and Johann started to become less responsive. I could sense a bit of anger in him; I didn’t know why, though.
“Johann, just hand over the gun, and join us,” Alex said.
“Fair enough.” Johann handed the gun to Alex, who immediately threw it to the side. I was right in assuming they wouldn’t use it against him. They were decent people.
In a split-second, everything shifted; too quickly, I think. As Alex tossed the gun, Johann made a move at him with his spear, or blade, as he called it.
Alex side-stepped the attack, and I picked up the pistol, and without even realizing it in that moment, shot Johann in the side of the head. He was motionless; as was I.
The other members approached quickly, but Alex waived them off.
“I suppose I owe you something, Hobson.”
“I suppose you do.”
“Walk with me.”